Soldiers of Fortune
by therealhershey
Summary: A small group composed of mercenaries travel across Skyrim, seeking work wherever they go. Along the way they experience trials, loss, and suffering but manage to find hope with each other and the people they meet along the way. See their journey as they travel across the land.
1. Chapter 1

Rogvir took a look at the horizon and sighed, a storm was approaching. Crackles of lightning filled the dark, foreboding clouds overhead, which were followed by the deep boom of thunder, louder then any drum. A storm this size would last for a day or more, meaning him and the mismatched group of mercenaries he traveled with needed to find more substantial shelter for the night. Cursing the Nine, he turned and began making his way down the hill he had been on to where the rest of the band was starting to make camp.

"The philosopher has returned from his lofty seat of vision! Tell us, oh great one, while we lowly minions were setting up the tents what divine predictions have you foretold?"

Rogvir narrowed his eyes, recognizing the lilting voice, and spun around. Where a second ago was previously empty air there now was a small Bosmer woman. Thin, with tanned firm skin and chestnut hair that reached just past her chin she gave off an air of confidence, ease, and a mischievous nature. She smirked at Rogvir, daring a response.

"Nyl, go bother Amir. I'm not in the mood for your games." Rogvir continued walking, knowing the current bane of his existence would not go away and continue to pester him.

"But what of the future of Tamriel? When you said you'd be back after a couple minutes everyone assumed you'd come back after a couple minutes. Silly us! When I went looking for you at the insistence of the others and saw you gazing off into the horizon, with that pained look on your face I knew you had to be divining the untold. After all, only a complete idiot would take half an hour trying to figure out if it was going to rain or not and since Nord men are known for their intellect I knew that couldn't be the case."

Rogvir gritted his teeth and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other instead of reaching behind him and throttling her.

Fortunately for him the camp was not to far and Nyl darted away the moment it was in sight. Coming closer, Rogvir saw the camp was essentially set up and everyone was falling into their usual routine. There were four in the small band of mercenaries, including himself and Nyl. There was Lywel, a thin Breton only in his late teens, who was sitting on a stump with a frown on his face. Dark hair fell in a haphazard fashion near his eyes, which he'd occasionally brush to the side impatiently as he studied from a spell tome. Pale, thin, tall and studious Rogvir didn't quite understand why wherever they went a gaggle of the local Nord teenage girls would flock to him, giggling and whispering amongst themselves while seeing which one of them would dare to say hello. Nyl tried to explain it to him, in her condescending fashion, that it was because he was mysterious and different and that Rogvir could learn something from him instead of being as subtle as a mammoth in heat when trying to deal with women. Lywel couldn't have been more unaware to the attentions of the fairer sex though. Despite the young mage's oblivious nature and young age, Rogvir was glad he had joined their group the previous year. Lywel was one of the most talented mages in the art of Restoration he had ever met, which, in their business, could potentially mean saving someone's life.

Tending at the fire and laughing at Nyl's antics was Amir, a Redguard man in his late forties. The oldest of the bunch, and an experienced sellsword, Rogvir had met Amir first in his travels as a mercenary when he had just been a green boy trying to make a name for himself. Amir had taken pity on Rogvir, who at the time was only sixteen, and took him on as an apprentice of sorts, teaching him how to fight and stay alive. Rogvir's own father, while not absent from his life in any way before Rogvir ran away, had never truly understood his son's need for adventure and honor so Amir had become a substitute father of sorts for the young man.

Finally there was Nyl. Nyl was an enigma to him. She was deadly with a bow and as dangerous as Amir in one-armed combat. She was as quiet as a shadow and Rogvir had seen her kill a sleeping bandit without the slightest trace of remorse or hesitation. She had admitted to being a thief before she met Amir and Rogvir, barely had the slightest shred of honor, and was the most annoying creature he had ever met in his life. Amir had insisted on her joining though, claiming that there was more to her that met the eye and gently chided Rogvir how people wondered why Amir had taken him on when he was a inexperienced lad and to open his mind to people from all walks of life. That had shamed Rogvir into keeping his reservations quiet and although Nyl had his back on their missions, he didn't trust her intentions.

"Rogvir!" Amir laughed as he walked into view. "Nyl was just telling me how you decided to become a seer."

Nyl maintained an impish, innocent face as Rogvir sent a glowering look her way.

"Laugh all you want you two, but this is important" Rogvir growled. "There is a storm coming in and it won't be pretty. We need to pack back up and find a safer solution before this gets bad."

Nyl laughed and sent her famous smirk his way. "Afraid of getting wet? I thought you big Nord men were supposed to be tough. Well it can't be all bad, maybe we can throw some soap on him and get the stink out. I swear he hasn't bathed since the beginning of First Seed."

Rogvir had heard enough. "Fine, drown for all I care, get struck by lightning you damn elf. I'm simply telling you what is happening."

"Tsk, tsk," Nyl was practically grinning by now. "That's not playing nice Rogvir, after all if I died who would save your sorry hide from every little threat that comes your way? From all the times I've rescued you it makes me wonder if you're not really a coward holding up a sword pretending to be strong. Like father like son I suppose. Perhaps we should check to see if he-" Nyl didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as Rogvir ran at her with a roar of rage. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got there but she was going to regret those words. He managed to only get a few feet before he was suddenly unable to move.

"When I joined this group, I wished the job description included there would be babysitting."

Lywel had finally involved himself in their little spat and had confined Rogvir to a ward. Normally a ward prevented someone doing damage to the user but a particularly strong mage could confine the dangerous person to a small bubble of energy. Rogvir was unable to move, Nyl finally had a reaction other then sarcasm and was glaring at Rogvir, while Amir stood up and looked at the both of them before finally glancing at Lywel.

"Let him go, boy, he won't do anything." Amir shot Rogvir a withering look that shamed him from the inside out. Lywel merely arced an eyebrow and released Rogvir and began to pack his belongings.

"You two are going to stop this bickering immediately. I can't believe I have to tell you both this as if you were children!" Amir was trying to keep his voice steady but found he was failing. "We will discuss this later when we find somewhere else to stay but for now I expect you two to remain civil to each other. Now pack your things, we need to leave."


	2. Chapter 2

Nyl shifted her pack strapped to her back and trudged forward through the muddy road. It had only taken fifteen minutes or so to get everyone packed, they traveled light while on the road, but it had already started to drizzle by the time they set out. Amir had pulled out a map and found a small town only about an hour's walk from where they were but it had started pouring within a few minutes of their hike.

They traveled in silence, partly in due to everyone's misery of the downpour but also because of the tension that still hung in the air. Rogvir still had that glare on his face and refused to look anywhere but forward, making him look like he had a grudge against the horizon. Nyl was on the verge of a quip, telling him his face would freeze that way but held it back. Not that she truly cared what Rogvir thought, in all honesty there were very few people whose opinion she held in high regard, but another fight was the last thing the group needed. She had no idea that Rogvir would snap like that; Nyl guessed it was the comment on his father that did him in. She had heard that little tidbit while eavesdropping on him and Amir talking a few weeks ago after one too many bottles of mead. She had joined the duo about six years ago but this was the first time she heard Rogvir actually talk about his father. It was mostly gibberish, he was pretty drunk, but she had heard him mention how his mother had run off with another man and his father did nothing about it, something, according to Rogvir, a coward would do.

She shot another glance at Rogvir, whose gaze was still fixated straight ahead, as she pondered over the predicament. He actually wasn't a bad looking man, she mused to herself, not for the first time in their travels. He had the tall, broad-shouldered look of a Nord, with fair hair done that reached to his shoulders. He normally kept a beard, but a fight with a bandit who happened to know a few Destruction spells caused most of it to be burned off about a month ago. Now there was only bristly stubble that he'd occasionally rub as if it itched. Despite Rogvir being relatively handsome she knew him too well to entertain any romantic notions. The first few weeks she had accompanied Rogvir and Amir she had played with the idea in her head, thinking it would be a fun distraction, but then she got to know him and dismissed the idea quickly. His personality had all of the appeal of a wet blanket and he could barely take a joke. If it weren't for her close relationship with Amir, she would have ditched the group a few years ago, but when someone won her loyalty, not an easy task, they had its unwavering support.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lywel broke the silence. "This town we are going to, do you think we will find any work there?" The tone of his voice sounded strained and almost falsely cheery but he couldn't be blamed for trying. Nyl liked Lywel, he had maturity beyond his years and was incredibly talented but his age showed sometimes in social situations, and this was one of them. He reminded her faintly of her younger brother sometimes, trying to grow up too fast, which caused a bittersweet ache in her heart. It became clear that neither Amir, nor Rogvir would answer the question, Rogvir still fuming and Amir too lost in his own thoughts.

"It depends on what's going on in the town," Nyl responded briefly. Lywel knew this already but nodded as if he had an answer to his question, which was followed by an awkward silence only broken by the occasional clap of thunder. A little while later they finally rounded the bend to the small town of Rorikstead.

Darkness covered the town thickly and everyone stumbled a few times trying to make their way to the inn. Opening the door, Nyl couldn't help to let a small sigh of pleasure escape her lips. It was a warm, well-lit room with the smell of something meaty and rich cooking over the fire. The innkeeper, a bald Nord, smiled at them from behind a counter.

"If you need a meal or a room, I've got both." His voice was warm and friendly, and had a rich Nord accent that flavored his words nicely. He was an older man and bald but Nyl liked them all ages, and she couldn't deny him being attractive. She wouldn't try anything tonight, she had a weariness in her that she could feel to her bones, but tomorrow was a different story.

Amir strode up to the counter. "We need two rooms, and dinner for each of us."

"For me no plants, only meat," Nyl stipulated. She wasn't particularly religious, but any Bosmer growing up in Valenwood respected their most important god Y'ffre, the Forest Deity.

The tale went how the Bosmer made a deal called the Green Pact with Y'ffre, which in the Wood elves swore to eat only meat-based products and never harm a living plant for their own benefit. She didn't strictly follow this code, when living from day to day as she had most of her life, you didn't stop to think about the moral repercussions of your actions, especially if you had an empty belly. However, if she had the chance she'd follow her people's customs, out of respect more than anything else. Despite her questionable morals and lack of honor, Nyl had a few streaks of integrity in her character.

"I take real coin here, no handouts or bartering," the innkeeper warned. He brightened considerably when Amir pulled out a pouch and counted out the coins necessary.

"Welcome to the Frostfruit Inn friend, I'm Mralki, my boy here will show you to your rooms." Mralki shouted at a young man dozing in a chair who yawned and got up.

"Erik, show these travelers to their rooms, and don't be bothering them with no questions." Nyl caught a glance at the young Nord and had to catch herself from grinning. The young man had his father's good looks but with the certain glow of the vitality of youth, it was going to be a _very _fun stay.

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So I know a whole lot hasn't happened the first two chapters but I felt like I needed to establish a few things before I get into the fun parts. Hopefully you guys enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. : )


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was just beginning to peak over the rolling hills of Rorikstead when Amir woke up. He glanced around him to find Rogvir and Lywel still fast asleep, so he gently got out of bed and crept across the room to retrieve his gear. Shrugging on the leather armor was a bit nosier then he had wanted but neither of the boys stirred, still exhausted from the last few weeks of hard traveling. It bothered him nonetheless, twenty years ago he had been in the prime of his life. A deadly machine of death and as noiseless as a wisp of smoke on the wind, now he couldn't even get dressed without clattering around like a dusty draugr.

"Next I'll be needing a cane," he muttered to himself, frustrated that his hands shook buckling the straps. There was no use denying it, he was getting too old for this business, it was time to start thinking about quitting the physical aspect of the job. Not that he couldn't still be involved in mercenary work, the few who made it to his position where they were still alive to become old usually started their own companies and ran it from a set location. With their lifetime of experience they then became fat, happy, and relatively wealthy with nothing to want for in the world. While the idea was tempting to settle down, maybe find a wife who wouldn't mind a grumpy, old man, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe there was more to his career besides a life sifting through papers and counting septims. Besides, Nyl and Rogvir would end up killing each other with no one to mediate their squabbles.

Amir walked out into the main hall, closing the door softly behind him and sat down next to the hearth, gazing into the dying coals for the next hour. He was so absorbed in his thinking that when a hand gently shook his shoulder he jumped up and had a dagger halfway out of its sheath before he realized who it was.

"Lywel! By the Divines boy, do you want your guts on the floor?" Amir was startled to say the least, particularly since it was Lywel who couldn't sneak if his life depended on it. Amir supposed his hearing was going as well, the thought made him grimace.

Lywel looked at him with a touch of concern on his face, his dark eyes showing worry, as he sat in the chair opposite of Amir.

Amir sighed, "Forgive me Lywel, I was thinking and I didn't think anyone else would be in the hall."

"I'm sorry," Lywel's voice was hushed as to not wake the other inhabitants. "I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep so I thought I'd take some time to study out here."

It was then when Amir noticed the spell tome wedged underneath Lywel's arm. He was on the verge of asking if anything was troubling the young man that would cause him to wake up in the early hours of the morning but a loud snore erupting from the room where Rogvir still lay asleep answered his question. Both he and Lywel shared a quiet chuckle over the noises coming from Rogvir before they both fell into companionable silence.

"Lywel, do you think I'm old?" The question sprung from Amir's mouth before he even had the time to register it, were his wits leaving him as well?

Lywel closed the book he had just opened and looked at Amir. Truly the boy was a strange character, just a few seconds ago concern had radiated off Lywel's face letting his emotions being read as easily as the book in his hands. Now he was a blank slate, with no expression, and eyes that held no emotion, only serving as dark pits that seemed as if they could swallow you whole.

"Yes, you are old." Amir felt like he had been punched in the stomach, Nyl would joke about him being old sometimes but her and Rogvir seemed to think he was the sun that provided the light for their little band, always unwavering and would always be there.

"But, you are not _too _old," Lywel continued, seemingly unaware of Amir's stormy inner monologue. Lywel's face narrowed in concentration for a brief second as he passed a hand over Amir, a golden light emitting from it. "You still have a few years of this life in you, my magic can feel your heart beat and your lungs take in air. They are strong still, it is only your reflexes that might betray you, and unfortunately no magic as of yet can fix those."

Amir was a mix of emotion. On one hand he was sad, he was past his youth and while before he might gripe to himself about his age he know knew for certain that his glory days were behind him. On the other hand he was happy he still had a little more time before his age truly claimed him. He looked back at Lywel.

"Thank you, it has been a while since someone spoke that plainly to me." Amir got up and went outside to watch the sun finish its peak over the hills and usher in a new morning, leaving Lywel beside the dying embers.

It was only an hour or so more before the small town filled with life. Men, women, and children bustled about their daily routine while the small band sat inside the inn finishing their breakfast.

Amir broke the silence, "Alright so I managed to get us a bounty about killing a giant nearby from Mralki, apparently it has been carrying off livestock. He's pretty sure it's a single one but it's not for certain. Is everyone alright with this?"

Nyl grinned in a feral anticipation, while Rogvir allowed a small grin to creep over his face, the first one Amir had seen since his fight with Nyl. Lywel just nodded.

"Then we'll set off soon, be prepared everyone. It's been a while since we faced a giant, know your place and the plan and we'll do fine."

Everyone nodded and got up to pack up the few things they would need for their excursion, Amir sat at the table for a few seconds longer, savoring the anticipation of a fight soon to be had.

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_Okay so the next chapter is going to pick up the pace a little more! Sorry it's been a little slow so far. I probably should have said this in my first chapter but the POV for each chapter is going to shift between each major character, which will not be confined to only Nyl, Lywel, Rogvir, and Amir. I also decided that the Dragonborn will play a role in the story, whether a major or a minor one I'm not sure yet. Hopefully you guys like it so far and reviews are always appreciated :D _


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry it's been so long guys! Had my first finals week so I was stressed out studying and neglected this story. Really excited I get to work on it again. I'm hoping to kick out a chapter or two a week for the rest of the summer and any reviews are always appreciated. I'm also going to do a new thing where I put the name of whatever character POV I'm doing at the top in bold. Hopefully it will make it easier to follow. Thanks for reading! :D_

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**LYWEL**

Lywel sprinted behind a rock, just barely missing the giant's club, and panted heavily. Things had gone bad to worse in a manner of seconds. It had started off simple enough; the group of mercenaries had set off from Rorikstead, anticipating the fight to soon be had. Giants weren't easy prey to be sure, but his comrades were strong, unified, and had faced tougher foes before. Turned out they had been misinformed, what was supposed to be a lone giant stealing livestock actually belonged to a camp of three other giants. Apparently the other three had been off herding mammoths and, by some cursed luck, had showed up the moment the mercenaries felled the first one. With a roar of rage the three giants had sprinted toward the band with rage in their eyes. The first two were vanquished by Amir and Rogvir's steel and with Lywel casting wards over them they managed to escape the worst of the damage. Things were looking up for them in the battle until the last giant was to be fought. This giant was the largest brute Lywel had ever seen, while most of their race stood at about ten to twelve feet, this one hit around fifteen, and was a mass of lean, corded muscle. Up until that point, Nyl had been distracting it by shooting it with her bow from a high rock that sheltered the giant's camp, but when the monster took notice of his fallen companions he let out a bellow of pain and hatred and took off toward Amir and Rogvir. If the mercenaries had been as well rested and eager to fight as they had when they set off, the fight might have gone well. However, Amir and Rogvir were both exhausted beyond belief and the giant was closing in, they were going to be killed.

Lywel, in an unexpected moment of spontaneity, threw a weak spark of lightning at the beast to distract it from Amir and Rogvir, who would have been crushed under the giant's might. The plan worked but Lywel's relief didn't last for long as the giant, rushed toward him in a fit of rage. Lywel had never ran so fast in his life as he threw himself behind a boulder, he heard the whistling of wind from the giant's club hit the spot where he had been not a second before.

Lywel's mind was racing frantically to escape his predicament, feeling like an animal caged in a trap, as the giant began to thunder towards him. He was entirely out of magicka at this point and completely out of potions to restore his weary self. Grimacing Lywel made a split second decision and began to quickly utter the words that were only meant to be used in the most dire occasions, the spell to Equilibrium.

"Such a strange feeling," Lywel thought, slightly light-headed, even as imminent danger approached him.

He could feel the power of his magic returning to him, that feeling of near invincibility, while his life force ebbed away through the focal point in his hand. The red mist containing his essence swirling around, converting itself to power, as the giant lumbered towards him. Lywel cut off the spell and managed to drag himself away, as Nyl continued to try to slow down and hurt the giant using her bow from her vantage point. It hurt to breathe at this point and his heart was fluttering wildly in his chest, but he didn't dare cast a healing spell on himself, not while the fight was still going. As long as he didn't use Equilibrium again and didn't overexert himself he should be fine. Lywel repeated this in his head, a mantra over and over again.

"Don't use the spell again, don't overexert yourself, help the others, you'll be fine."

Lywel began to mutter a healing spell that would restore stamina and cast it at Rogvir and Amir, who had been unsuccessfully trying to find a stamina potion in their packs before. Feeling the surge of energy rush through their bodies once more, the two rushed to positions to take down the beast and distract it from a stumbling Lywel.

"Nyl!" Amir shouted at the elf, who had started to make her way down from the high rock to help the two warriors.

"Stay put! Get in position for when we come by! Rogvir, focus on the ankles, slice the tendons when the time is right! Lywel, for the love of all of Tamriel, keep casting those damn wards!"

With a brief understanding of Amir's haphazard plan, the group began to fall into place. Amir, lightning fast, sliced a long gash in the giant's leg before the brute had time to react. With a roar the giant clumsily tried to smash Amir, but to no avail. Amir was now out of reach of the giant and began to bang his sword on his shield.

"Over here you slow, dirty, oversized troll," Amir yelled, still banging his sword on his shield.

"Come over here and see if you can face me! I've brought down worse than you!"

The giant, looking at the source of the new noise that had inflicted pain, began to run after Amir, brandishing his massive club. All the while Rogvir trailed the giant, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Amir was beginning to reach the rock that sheltered the camp and, just when his back was almost to the wall, he screamed, "NOW!"

Rogvir sliced open the back of the giant's ankles with two broad sweeps of his gleaming great sword while Amir dove out of the way. The colossal monster bellowed in pain and collapsed to one knee as its ankles gave out, pitching his club to the side. Nyl, perfectly balanced twenty feet above, then leaped from her perch, brandishing her two ebony swords, and landed nimbly on the giant's shoulders, a feat that seemed only Nyl could pull off. Before the giant could react and grab her she sunk both swords into its neck, severing the spine where it connected to the brain and jumped off the beast as it fell. Lywel mustered up the last remaining stores of his magicka and summoned a ward around Nyl, to protect her as she fell on the rocky terrain. A cloud of dust rose up around the giant when it collapsed and as it began to settle, the joy of a fight well done was quickly put down as they noticed a member of their party missing. Amir was gone.

Panic gripped at Lywel and he began to look for Amir with Rogvir and Nyl around where the giant fell, praying he wasn't crushed by the giant's substantial weight.

"He has to be here somewhere," Nyl said, more frantic then Lywel had ever heard her. "He might be hurt! We need to find him!"

"We know that Nyl! Just concentrate on looking," Rogvir shouted back at her, while doing his best to try to move one of the giant's massive arms to see if Amir was underneath.

Lywel, looking at the situation, remembered with a sinking heart, that the giant had flung his club when crippled by Rogvir's blade. His eyes traced the path of the projectile, when he noticed a crumpled form a little away.

"THERE!" Lywel shouted and, despite his weakened state, pushed his legs forward towards the mass.

Rogvir reached Amir's form first and cradled him, sobbing. Lywel, approaching the situation, felt like he had been punched in the gut. Rogvir never had shed a tear in his presence, had never even shown an emotion besides happiness or rage, it could only mean one thing. As he drew nearer he saw Amir's eyes were closed and blood was soaked through his shirt, his armor ripped away by Rogvir to see the extent of the damage. By this time the ever-practical Nyl had approached, carrying their fallen gear, with a somber expression and tears trickling down her face. Lywel knelt beside Amir and closed his eyes, letting the faint golden light of his magic focus in on the damage and see if there was any hope to be had. Lywel's eyes jolted open with a start, and he gave a gasp that was half joy, half shock.

"He's still alive, thank Arkay, the old bastard's still alive!"

Quickly shoving a startled Rogvir off of Amir, Lywel closed his eyes again and began to focus in on the more detailed nature of his wounds. Working quickly, he realized that almost all of the ribs on Amir's left side had been splintered and punctured his lung, which was quickly filling up with blood and fluid. His left arm was all but crushed, yet no major arteries had been severed, and he most certainly had a concussion, but seemingly no life-threatening brain damage. A choked laugh escaped Lywel at the situation, this was nothing less than a miracle, and he quickly gave thanks to the Eight Divines before getting to work. Snatching his pack from Nyl, he rummaged through it before he remembered he was completely out of potions to restore his magicka. Frowning, Lywel set it down and thought. The arm and concussion could be left alone until they got to a town with a healer, although it wouldn't be the best situation. The ribs and punctured lung however needed to be healed now. It couldn't wait a few hours, or even a few minutes really, and Lywel needed more time then that for his magicka to restore to cast the needed spell. Frowning, he quickly made his decision while hoping it would work. Lywel grabbed the only health solution that he had left and gulped it down quickly, feeling some strength return to his body but not all.

"What are you doing?" Rogvir stared at Lywel angrily. "Heal him, not yourself!"

"Quiet," Lywel snarled, "I'm doing just that."

With a shaky breath, and a silent prayer to Julianos on the wisdom of this decision, Lywel cast Equilibrium for the second time that day. It was worse this time; his body knew it was too close to death and, every second, his survival instinct was screaming at him to stop. Lywel ignored it and focused on taking the spell to the last second. Nyl and Rogvir watched with stunned looks, neither one of them knowing what Lywel was attempting to do. When Lywel could take it no longer and the world was nothing more then a clouded haze, he broke the spell and quickly used his magic to remove the fluid from Amir's lung, heal the puncture wound, and create a barrier that would prevent his broken ribs from moving or hitting anything else for several hours.

"Take him…..Whiterun…..Kynareth." Lywel wheezed before the world went dark and he fell into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for the reviews, follows, favorites, and views guys! Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. Had a little trouble with this chapter. I ended up rewriting it several times. I hope it doesn't sound too disjointed. Criticism is always appreciated and thanks for reading!_

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**ROGVIR**

Rogvir sunk into one of the chairs next to Amir's bedside. He stared numbly at the sleeping man who had been like a father to him for most of his adult life. Amir, who was invincible in Rogvir's eyes, now lay there, looking fragile and broken. Rogvir sighed wearily; this was too much to deal with. Amir was lying on the bed and, although he would live, his arm was crushed beyond repair. At the moment, the crippled limb, covered in a number of numbing poultices and salves, was being prepared for amputation. Amir was going to lose his arm, he would never fight again.

On the other side of the room, Lywel was laid out on a bed as well, still and as pale as death itself. He had been unconscious for most of the day.

"Blasted fool," Rogvir muttered to himself, looking at the boy.

Rogvir's mind kept going back to the moment after Lywel had healed Amir. When Lywel collapsed Rogvir's first thought was that the boy was dead, by a wound that had gone unnoticed by himself and Nyl. Lywel was breathing faintly though and, when no life-threatening wound was discovered, Nyl pointed out that he used some sort of different magic than normal. Not knowing much about magic though, she had no idea what. At that point, Amir started to stir and, although in great pain, he had managed to stand. The trio carried Lywel and their essential provisions to Whiterun, the nearest town and the place Lywel had muttered before he collapsed. There they had found the town's temple, dedicated to Kynareth, and the healers had taken Amir and Lywel for treatment. That had been several hours ago, and Rogvir and Nyl had not left the temple since.

Rogvir was suddenly startled out of his reprieve as Nyl plopped herself down in the chair next to him.

"How is he doing?" She was blunt and to the point, her voice holding no sign of her usual teasing, lilting manner.

"As well as can be expected," Rogvir hoarsely replied. "The priestess here, she said she'll take off the arm within the hour, he won't feel anything."

Nyl gave no response back.

"Did she say anything about Lywel?" Rogvir was asking hesitantly, almost not wanting to know. The boy looked so cold and broke-

"Listen to me," Nyl hissed suddenly, once again startling Rogvir out of his inner monologue.

"Lywel is as good as dead, we both know that, Amir is nothing more than a useless cripple now. I'll wait a few days, but that's it, I'm leaving after that. I know you Rogvir; you're going to stay and try to take care of Amir. Do yourself a favor, leave. You can do better than a life of hard work, and just barely scraping by."

Rogvir was stunned. Although he never liked Nyl, knew she was morally weak, knew she didn't have a scrap of honor he had never thought that she would abandon the group in a serious time of need. Too tired and too shocked to voice words, he simply stared at her as she stormed off and left the temple.

"Don't worry boy, she doesn't mean it, she's just upset." Rogvir looked down with a start to see Amir was awake and had heard the entire exchange.

"Amir!" Despite Nyl's words, Rogvir was relieved to see his mentor awake and talking.

Amir laughed weakly, "Gods, boy, try not to act like an excited puppy, might accidentally piss yourself."

Rogvir chuckled, happy to see Amir being able to joke. "Listen to you old man. Almost on the brink of death today and you still manage to act like an ass."

Amir's smile faded a little, "I am old now aren't I? Not just old even, an old, crippled man." His voice was slightly bitter.

Rogvir looked down, unsure of what to say. Amir looked at him and huffed.

"Don't act like that. I may be an invalid but I can still whoop you in a fight boy, don't forget that." Amir gave him a faint smile.

Rogvir managed to smile back.

"And like I said," Amir continued, "Don't worry about Nyl. That girl's first reaction is to run away from anything that hurts her heart, but she'll be back."

Rogvir frowned slightly, "She seemed pretty serious Amir. I don't know if we can trust her to stay around."

Amir shook his head, "You are so quick to write her off Rogvir. That girl has a hard heart to break through, but it's only to protect herself. Trust me when I say she's had a life of hurt and pain, this is the only way she knows how to react."

Their conversation was broken off when the priestess of the temple came up and said it was time for Amir's surgery. Rogvir stood up and clasped Amir's good arm before walking out of the temple for some air. It was dusk at this point and the area near the temple was bathed in a golden light. He looked up and saw the widespread branches of a great tree; the Gildergreen one of the temple priests had called it. Looking at the enormous tree gave him a feeling of some peace in his heart. Such beauty in the world, he knew that despite Amir's arm, Lywel's fight for life, and Nyl's rant, everything would somehow turn out all right. He just knew it.

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_Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. For the next one we'll see a new character introduced :D and it will be a big one. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Well, it's been a while since I posted. Sorry about that but I've been a bit distracted lately. I haven't given up on the story though so expect more to come : ) As I said last chapter we will have a new major character introduced, and a few others. Hope you guys enjoy and constructive criticism is always welcome._

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**KIRA**

The sun was just beginning to set in the valley. Kira closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, these were the days where she felt alive. The sun's dying rays were warm on face and the air smelled like freshly dug dirt, grass, and rain. She felt happiness in her heart at moments like these, where everything seemed truly perfect and at peace in the world.

"Miss Kira!"

Kira's eyes fluttered open in annoyance at the sharp sound and she sighed irritably as Wilhelm, the stable boy, ran toward her.

"Miss Kira!" He yelled again frantically. "Please, for the love of the Divines, get off of the roof! Your aunt will have my head if she catches you up there when she gets back!"

Kira was currently nestled in between two eaves of the roof of the cottage and had no intention of moving. Wilhelm was terrified of heights so he wouldn't climb up to get her. Putting on a sweet smile, she poked her head over the edge to look at the panicking stable boy, planning on weaseling some more time in her sanctuary.

When she saw him standing there though, covered in mud from working in the garden and obviously worried she knew he had won. She couldn't stand making him feel bad; Wilhelm was her only friend, despite him being a servant.

"Don't fret Wilhelm, I'm coming down." The poor boy's face changed from worry to relief and then suddenly to terror as Kira leapt off of the roof onto a pile of hay.

"Miss Kira! Are you alright?" Wilhelm ran over to the spot where Kira lay motionless.

"Oh gods, oh gods, please- oh please Talos for the love of the gods please be fine. Please don't be dead," Wilhelm frantically murmured, searching for the cause of injury. Mistress Betrid would kill him, or worse, if anything happened to Kira. Just as he was about to break into sobs, a wide smile appeared on Kira's face before she opened her eyes and burst out laughing.

"Fooled you didn't I," she chuckled as she got up. "How could I die from a ten foot drop? Really Wilhelm use your head." Kira grinned again as Wilhelm slowly recovered from his scare and realized she was teasing.

"And another thing, Talos worship is illegal. Be careful who you mention that to, I might have to report you out of civic duty." Kira poked him in the ribs as she said that though, with a wide grin on her face.

"I expect better behavior from a fellow Nord," was Wilhelm's stoic response, but Kira could see the corners of his mouth twitch in humor at her jesting.

She poked him in the ribs once again before leaving Wilhelm to the rest of his work and going inside. She smiled as she opened the door, it was the only home she truly remembered and, in her eyes, was perfect. It was just big enough for her and Aunt Betrid but was furnished tastefully and was neat to a fault. It had one big main room where the kitchen, eating area, living space, and library were arranged, with Aunt Betrid's workspace adjoining the main space, and the living quarters up a small flight of stairs. She hurried up the steps to her room where she checked herself in her mirror. The tall mirror had been sent as a present for her 18th year from her parents and was one of her most treasured items. The smile on her face for the lovely gift quickly changed into a grimace at her appearance. Her work dress was covered in hay and mud and her hair was in complete disarray. Her aunt would be furious to see her like this so she hurriedly changed and combed her hair. Checking the mirror once again she decided she was presentable and pondered over her looks. She was tall and thin, with slight curves at her breasts and hips. She had a splattering of freckles over her nose that she hated and her skin was pale as snow so the blasted marks showed plainly. Her hair was long, wavy, and a deep, rich brown like polished wood but it was still brown which was boring. Sighing heavily she pulled at her dress to make sure it fit correctly and looked at the mirror again. She did like her eyes though, almond-shaped and a deep green they had, what Aunt Betrid called, a soul-searching look to them. A carriage clattering outside broke her out of her inner critique and she ran outside. Aunt Betrid was just stepping out of the cart with Wilhelm's help when she caught sight of Kira. Where before was a grumpy look, framed by wisps of grey hair a smile broke out on the older woman's face.

"I've been gone a week girl, a hug would be appreciated at least."

Kira grinned and hugged her aunt before she and Wilhelm helped her grab the supplies and they went inside.

"Thank you Wilhelm, that will be all for now," Aunt Betrid nodded at the boy who quickly left.

"So, I see the place hasn't been completely destroyed since I left," Aunt Betrid remarked before settling down in her chair.

"Have a little faith," Kira replied in mock hurt before she sat down and caught up with her aunt.

Aunt Betrid talked all about her trip to town while Kira hung on to every detail. After her aunt finished with how her week went, Kira looked at her aunt hopefully.

Aunt Betrid sighed, "Don't give me that look girl, you know you're not ready to go."

Kira's smile faded, "How do you know I'm not ready? I haven't had an accident in almost six months, I can control it now, please?" Kira stared at her aunt with hope radiating from her face.

Aunt Betrid looked at Kira sadly, "Maybe next month Kira but I want to see actual results, people's lives are at stake here and you know you're no-,"

"Not ready, not ready," Kira angrily interrupted her aunt. "You say that every month Aunt Betrid! I CAN control myself, I practice the techniques you taught me every day, I meditate, I can control the power, it doesn't control me! I just want a chance to prove myself but you won't give me that chance. If you just LISTENED TO ME-," Kira stopped midsentence and gasped, fighting the rising tide within her. Flames began to rise from her hands, she wanted to burn, it needed to get out, it had been so long since she just let go, let everything go. It would be so easy to just let it loose, let everyone fear her, see her power, she would force Aunt Betrid to take her to town, she could feel it roaring inside of her so desperate to get out, her vision blurred. Kira managed to take a deep breath of air and began to focus on her breaths.

"In and out, in and out, in and out." It was only until she started to calm down that she realized Aunt Betrid was beside her, holding her hands and whispering the words to her.

Kira was trembling and a few tears escaped from her eyes. So stupid, so childish, to lose control while arguing she was in control.

"Kira, child, come here it will be alright," Aunt Betrid held out her arms, a sympathetic expression on her face, but Kira only whirled around and walked out of the cottage, a flurry of emotions.

It wasn't fair, a grown woman not being able to control her magic; she just wanted to be normal. Instead she was a freak, cast off from the rest of her family to live in solitude. A few more tears escaped her eyes before she angrily brushed them away. She could do better she had to do better, one day she would be in complete control and she would go to the College of Winterhold at the far Northern reaches of Skyrim. There she would be the most powerful, the most wise, her family would welcome her back with open arms and accept that magic wasn't bad, despite their Nordic beliefs. She would have a real relationship with them, instead of just a gift on her name day every year. Underneath the full moon she fantasized about her perfect world, one day, she thought, it would be reality.

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_So now you've met Kira, a young, powerful Destruction mage. As you can see though she has problems with her temper and, by extension, her magic. The next chapter will go back to one of the members of the mercenary band but Kira's tale will continue. If anyone wanted to know, Kira means dark-haired in Irish. I know it's not a "traditional" Skyrim name but I thought I'd branch out a little._


	7. Chapter 7

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**AMIR**

Amir drained the contents of the mead bottle before slamming it back on the table and gesturing for another. He eyed the Redguard serving girl appreciatively as she sashayed over and set down another drink. Not often you saw women of his country in Skyrim, even more rare if they were young and practically spilling out of their clothing. She smiled suggestively at his leer but the grin didn't reach her eyes and she kept an arm's distance. It wasn't the first time a tavern wench had shied away, some more clear on their opinions than others, but it stung more than usual. He rubbed the stub of his left arm self-consciously before grabbing the new drink and taking a swig. It had been a little more then a week since his arm had been amputated and its loss was almost more unbearable than the initial pain itself. Danica, the chief priestess at the temple, had given him herbs that helped dull the ache in his arm, but they did nothing for the ache in his heart. Amir knew from his experiences that few things could help take away the pain from a hurt soul. Those remedies were women, a good fight, and alcohol. Since he could no longer fight and the women were practically running, alcohol would have to do. He took another long draught before he caught sight of Rogvir coming through the doors. Amir started to raise his left arm to get his attention before catching himself and bitterly took another drink. Luckily, Rogvir saw him anyway and sat down across from him, raising an eyebrow.

"You're not supposed to drink if you're using those herbs."

Amir rolled his eyes, since the accident Rogvir had been fretting over him like a mother hen. He was waiting for the moment when he started plumping his pillows and giving him warm milk at night.

"The concern is appreciated, but considering you're half my age and I trained you while you were still practically sucking at your mother's tits, I think I'll be alright."

He started to take another drink before he realized that his bottle was now empty and began gesturing for another.

"Just at least tell me how many drinks you're in so I know if I should leave a bucket beside you tonight." Rogvir sounded a little irritated, but by the gods, Amir thought, he was a grown man. If he wanted to get shit-faced and throw up his guts later he could do that if he wanted.

"Listen here-" Amir started to say and tried to use his absent left arm to get up while still holding the empty bottle. The result ended with him smashing part of his face into the table and falling off the chair. He wasn't completely sure at this point if it was his missing arm, the alcohol, or the medicine that was making him so dizzy.

"Probably a bit of everything," he murmured, incoherently, as Rogvir helped him up and walked him to their room. Never in his life, had he been more appreciative of a warm bed and the minute his head hit the pillow he passed out.

When Amir woke the next morning, sun was pouring into the room from a small window and shining into his eyes.

"By all that is good and holy," he groaned and threw the coarse blanket over his face. The pounding in his head was unbearable, he remembered why he hated getting knockout drunk, and prayed to the Divines for release. After a few minutes, when no miraculous relief came, he groaned and got out of bed. He awkwardly got dressed and headed down the stairs for some sort of breakfast. As he got his food and began to dig in he spotted Rogvir walk into the inn and notice him. Remember his behavior towards Rogvir from the other night, Amir winced and motioned him over with his good arm.

"I'm sorry about last night," Rogvir said quickly, cutting off Amir as he opened his mouth. "If anyone has the right to drink right now it's you, and I've been acting overbearing since this whole, thing." Rogvir gestured at Amir's arm, looking uncomfortable at having to mention the missing limb.

Having Rogvir apologize to him was probably the worst way for him to act, even though it was completely unintentional.

"Don't apologize Rogvir, I've been acting like a bitter ass all week and drinking to make myself forget." Amir cleared his throat, slightly ashamed at having to admit his behavior. "It won't continue though, I don't know what I can do now to contribute but I'll promise you I won't do anything else to push us back."

Rogvir nodded, looking a bit embarrassed, so Amir changed the subject.

"So, still no word of Nyl?" Nyl had disappeared the day of his surgery and neither Rogvir nor Amir had heard or seen any sign of her.

"No sign of Nyl, but that isn't the shocker of the era," Rogvir said irritably. "I told you she would cut and run the minute things turned bad."

Amir felt a twinge of doubt at Nyl's loyalty as he said that. He knew Nyl's past, and knew that she viewed Amir, Lywel, and even Rogvir as a pseudo-family but he couldn't deny Nyl had a somewhat dubious history and running would not be out of character.

"And I suppose no change for Lywel either?"

Rogvir shook his head sadly. " I talked to Danica this morning. He's still unconscious but they managed to get a little water into him. She said though, if his condition doesn't change, he won't make it much longer."

Amir pushed his plate of half eaten food away and rubbed his face wearily with his hand. Just a few weeks ago he was mediating petty fights between Rogvir and Nyl, now everything had been changed.

"Another thing," Rogvir said hesitantly, "We're running out of septims. I had a good amount stored since we came here but I think Nyl took half when she split and food and shelter are starting to take their toll without any incoming jobs. We also picked the worst hold in all of Skyrim to be mercenaries. The Hall of the Companions is only a stone's throw away and they take a good portion of the clients in Whiterun."

"You could always join." Amir hated to mention it but the fact was he was holding Rogvir back. Even if they could find jobs, there was no way Rogvir could take them on by himself.

"No," Rogvir stated brusquely. "I mean, I can't say I didn't think of the idea but when it comes down to it I can't abandon my mentor and I can't abandon Lywel.

Amir was about to point out that his mentor was now a cripple and Lywel was more likely to die soon then suddenly recover but Rogvir had such conviction written on his face that he couldn't argue. Rogvir was no longer the teenage boy he once trained; he was a man and could make his own decisions, no matter how bad they might be.

Amir managed a small smile at Rogvir, "Well, seems we are deep in over our heads. No work, and no manpower to do it even if we could find any." Amir sighed, he knew that one day the little group would have to expand but he was still dreading it all the same. "Looks like we're going to have to hold some good, old-fashioned, interviews."

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_Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcome and thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

_This chapter is much longer than usual and worthy of an M rating. Most of my chapters have been fairly tame so far, so a warning is necessary. Reviews are always welcome, whether positive or negative, and I hope you enjoy._

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KIRA

Kira's eyes narrowed in concentration as she focused on the spell needed to cast a ward. She hadn't been able to successfully cast one strong enough to protect herself all day. She closed her eyes, trying to drown out distractions, and murmured the words slowly and carefully, allowing her magicka to pool out of her, shaping it into a physical barrier. The ward sputtered to life and Kira practically whooped with joy. She turned to Aunt Betrid, who had been stoically watching from the door of the cottage, who gave a nod of approval. Unfortunately, Kira's elation at successfully casting the spell and the pride she felt at Aunt Betrid's reaction caused her concentration to waver, breaking the spell. She cursed violently under her breath, wishing all wards and ward related things to the farthest plane of Oblivion. She took a deep sigh and began to try again.

"Kira, you've been at it for hours. Come inside for dinner." Aunt Betrid's voice was blunt and had a chilly edge. This had been the majority of the conversations between Kira and Aunt Betrid in the week since she had lost her temper. It's what always happened, Kira would lose control, and Aunt Betrid would distance herself for a few days before things would go back to normal. It was always a little upsetting, to have the woman who was like a mother be so cold but Kira viewed it as a way to focus her attention and determination at not losing control again. Eventually it would pay off and she would be able to live her life in whatever way she chose.

Kira walked into the house and sat down at the small table, where a steaming bowl of vegetable soup was sitting. She inhaled a whiff of the savory dish and began to dig in, burning her tongue on the boiling hot meal. Her tongue searing with pain, she stopped eating and looked up at her aunt, who was quietly staring at her. Aunt Betrid's stare always could inspire a look of fear, even in her. Her eyes were so dark they practically matched her pupils and, despite being an elderly woman, she radiated an aura of firm control. Kira knew that look, and decided that the best course of action was to wait for her aunt to speak first.

"So impulsive," Aunt Betrid whispered after a minute. Kira narrowed her eyes a bit at her comment but held her tongue.

"Kira, you're almost nineteen. You're mother was married at your age and beginning to expect her first child. You are a grown woman now and I can no longer make you stay secluded from the rest of the world, but you also need discipline. You lack control of a power that not only endangers everyone around you but also yourself."

Aunt Betrid paused a moment, contemplating her next words. "However, it is not entirely your fault. I do not have the skill or extensive knowledge to train you, and reading books can only take you so far. This is why I wrote a letter to your parents, telling them my recommendation is to send you to school in the Imperial City."

Kira's emotions were a whirlwind but she made an effort to calm herself as to not cause any potential accidents. On one hand she was getting a way out, she could finally learn and discover her true potential. She would be able to meet people who were mages like her and see one of the greatest cities in all of Tamriel. On the other hand, it wasn't the choice she wanted.

"Aunt Betrid, thank you for giving me a chance but I wanted to stay in Skyrim," Kira paused timidly.

"By Skyrim I assume you mean the College of Winterhold," Aunt Betrid's voice was flat. Kira nodded hesitantly and Aunt Betrid gave a huff of annoyance.

"I will never understand your fascination with that college, child. It is practically crumbling away into the sea and if it weren't for the school, there would be nothing of importance there."

"I know," Kira's voice was eager. "But it isn't part of the Mages Guild so the opportunities to learn are boundless. The restrictions that are in Cyrodil aren't there and they offer their services to the public so that they can support themselves, not because the Emperor makes them."

"Did you not hear me before? You're impulsive, reckless, and you aren't in control of your magic. You need those rules and regulations, Kira!" Kira had rarely heard her normally calm and composed aunt sound so passionate and it startled her. Aunt Betrid stopped and massaged her temple as if she had a headache. Kira tentatively started speaking.

"I also wanted to stay in Skyrim Aunt Betrid. I'm a Nord and this is my homeland." Aunt Betrid gave a snort of laughter at her statement.

"Your parents and siblings could claim that statement Kira, but you? No, you may be a Nord but you have no ties to this land." The statement stung but its words hit home. Aunt Betrid's words rung true, Kira had no true connections to anyone but her aunt, but Kira couldn't help but feel what was in her heart. She belonged in Skyrim and Skyrim would always be her true home, no matter what anyone said. Aunt Betrid gave Kira a long hard look and studied the conviction in her face.

"Your parents haven't even responded to my first letter, they might outright refuse. We'll cross the bridge of where you'll be going if they even give you permission. As for right now, finish your soup." Kira looked down at the now cold, congealed soup with distaste before she realized someone was missing.

"Aunt Betrid, where's Wilhelm?" As the words left her mouth a scream rung out, shattering the night silence. Kira and Aunt Betrid jumped up and ran outside, looking for the source of the anguished wail. They ran to the small garden where Wilhelm had been working and there Kira saw a sight that would haunt her dreams. Wilhelm was running toward them, moaning with pain, with an arrow piercing his eye. The thin piece of wood had hit its mark perfectly, yet had not gone deep enough to actually kill him. Kira heard a whizz, almost like the sound of a bee, before an arrow burst through Wilhelm's throat and he fell, choking in a river of his own blood. At this point Kira had been in a state of shock that left her voiceless but when Wilhelm fell, gurgling around the shaft in his throat, she screamed a cry of pure terror. Never in her life had she seen anything so horrific. She heard another whizz and in a moment of pure adrenaline and fear she managed to cast a ward around herself, weakly stopping an arrow from going through her heart by a hairsbreadth of space. It was then she heard a small thump, like a sack of flour hitting the floor, and she turned. Aunt Betrid was still standing beside her, holding her stomach, which from out protruded an arrow shaft. Kira looked at her horrified, unable to act or say anything.

"Kira," her aunt said weakly, "Run." Aunt Betrid collapsed where she shuddered a moment and then went still.

Kira's mind was drawing a blank, she felt nothing but a hollow emptiness and her ward sputtered away. She ran over to the spot where Aunt Betrid lay, and felt for a heartbeat. There was nothing. She let out a cry, pained and wounded, like an animal caught in a trap and sobbed over the body over her dead aunt.

"Well, well, look at what we got here." Kira looked up, her eyes clouded by a haze of tears to see a bear of man, holding the largest axe she had ever seen. He was accompanied by a dark elf holding a drawn bow at her and a Nord woman who had lightning jumping erratically in her hands.

"Storn, the girl is a mage. She cast a ward, blocked one of my arrows." The dark elf still had the bow trained on her, not wavering in the slightest.

"Urunil, let the man have some fun," the woman with the lightning was speaking now. "It's been a long few weeks, and I'm tired of the man chasing after me," she threw him a look of mild disgust. "Besides, she's nothing but a farm girl. Likely that's the only spell she knows."

"Thank you for your permission Svenja," the giant man said in mock approval and began to walk closer to Kira. She began to scramble away on her hands and knees.

"Look at her, got a wild filly," the man grinned a smile of broken teeth. "Won't be like the bitch last time that just lay there and didn't say anything." The woman rolled her eyes and began making her way over to the cottage. The dark elf still had the arrow fixated on her.

"Urunil put the damn bow down. Don't want you to slip and put an arrow through my cock." The man called Storn chuckled and the dark elf warily loosened the string and looked around the clearing.

"For the gods sake, Urunil, calm down. There's no one here, no one for miles! You damn elves are too jumpy." As he was saying this he was undoing the straps to his belt and dropping it to the ground. Kira was fixated to one spot, partly from terror and partly from disbelief of what was happening. As he began to undress and banter with Urunil, the woman rushed out of the cottage.

"STORN," the woman looked furious. "There's nothing here!" Her voice was venomous and her face dark with anger. "You said you scoped the place out for weeks!" Storn looked confused at the accusation.

"I saw the old one come back with a ton of supplies and they don't do much. Someone has to be supplying them coin." He scowled before he turned to Kira and grabbed her by her hair. More tears leaked from her eyes, this time from pain, and she tried to squirm away.

"Twist away one more time and I'll cut off an ear." Kira stopped moving and looked at his face, only inches away from her own. "Where's your fucking gold?"

"We, we don't have any," Kira's voice was stumbling and weak from the pain but she spoke quickly. "My parents, they send us gold monthly, only enough for necessities. She winced at the pressure the man extorted on her head as she said this but continued. "We spent it on food, alchemy ingredients last week. We don't have any I swear, I swear."

Storn glowered at her before punching her in the face with his free hand and letting go. Kira's cheek exploded with pain and her head felt like it was spinning but she somehow managed to stay conscious.

"What in Oblivion are we going to do now Storn?" The woman looked furious but cowered slightly at the angry look the man sent her way.

"We could sell her to the Necromancers like the one from last time," the dark elf was speaking now. "They always need new bodies, and they like them fresh."

"Looks like we don't have a choice. Svenja, burn down the house." Kira watched dully, still in a haze from the punch, as the woman sent a stream of flames towards the roof of her house, where it quickly began to burn.

"First off though, time to have a little distraction with you." Kira looked up into the face of the giant man who began to shrug off his pants. As he came forward and began to rip her dress, Kira heard a tinkling sound of falling glass. Her mind numbly realized that the mirror that her parents sent her must have broken in the heat. The delicate noise seemed to break her out of her daze and she looked at the damage surrounding her home. As she saw the bodies of her aunt and her only friend lying motionless, the reality of what was happening truly hit her. Quickly the numb, broken feeling inside her was replaced by a roaring tide of anger. Normally she would have shied away from the rage building inside of her but instead she let it swallow her whole, and she felt the power engulf her. Putting both hands on the chest of the man who was struggling to rip her clothes off, she sent out a force of energy that sent him flying into the air and landing with a thump.

The dark elf quickly loosed an arrow but it disintegrated into ash as it came near her. Kira saw the man and the woman shoot projectiles at her, whether magic or arrow, but none affected her as they disappeared within a few feet. She could see the growing terror on their faces, saw their mouths moving frantically, but heard nothing. All she could feel was the sweet music of her magic, growing inside her, running rampant. She held her hands up and unleashed a storm of fire, feeling the heat searing her hands and body. She laughed, uncontrollably, no longer caring for her grief. She only felt pleasure as she saw the faces of the bandits twist in pain before they burst into flames, and then quickly ash. Kira wasn't sure how long the firestorm lasted; she only saw the destruction when she was done. She was standing in a circle of around a hundred feet of nothing but a fine ash. The cottage, the bodies of her aunt and friend, the bandits, all were gone, with Kira in the center of the circle of destruction, covered in soot. She still felt the power bubbling inside her though, and the euphoria of it made her laugh again. This was the first time in her life she had let it take control. She began walking out of the clearing in a daze, daring and hoping something would get in her way to feel the power roar again.

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_I hope I did justice to this scene, it's been running around in my head for a while. Thanks for reading! _


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